Day after day—five, to be exact—she had returned to Morgan's; and each time the man would understand what had drawn her, and with a kindly smile would sit down at the piano and play. mm. " "Ah, Jack," said Wood, shaking his head, "where there's a will there's a way. . . That is what terrified her: the consciousness that nothing in her life would be continuous, that she would no sooner form friendships (like the present) than relentless fate would thrust her into a new circle. Unlocking it, he entered the chamber, which by no means belied its external appearance. Guiltily, she felt very little for him, and yet she wondered what he would be like. She thought of all sorts of odd and desperate expedients, and with passionate petulance rejected them all. That was the true marvel of it.
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